PAINT IT RED (MikhAiah)

16: Boogey's Warning

"Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." —Albert Einstein

***

AIAH

Dinner? Perfect. Lobster? Loved it. Wine? Amazing. Mikha? Too good for me.

I lied to her. Then I lied to recover from my lie because I couldn't tell her I was wearing my latest two victims' blood in my hair. The guilt she had on her face made me hate myself.

She apologized.

I realized in that moment how wrong this all is.

Mikha is incredible. She's everything I never even hoped to dream about, because someone so good couldn't exist.

Yet she's here.

Well, not at this exact moment. She's currently at her house getting more clothes. She's taking a few days off, since their cases have gone cold. Which means they haven't found my latest bodies yet. Or it could mean that she's not on that case...

Yesterday was a damn close call. Ten minutes earlier and she'd have found me covered in blood as I tossed all my clothes into the burn pile behind my house. I burned those clothes as soon as she left earlier. My floors are so dark that she didn't notice the drips of blood on them. I could have lied my way out of that too, but I couldn't have lied my way around my murder shoes or murder bag.

Fortunately, all that was upstairs.

I'll never let my phone die again. She tried calling me numerous times, but I was finally at the end game with Tyler and Lawrence, and didn't pause to put my phone on the charger.

The smart thing to do would have been to charge it on my way home, but it was tucked inside my murder bag...that I threw into the closet...and couldn't find until it finally dawned on me.

Colet spent forever puking in a bucket inside her car during the really gory stuff. It's not like she could risk puking inside the cellar and leaving behind all that yummy DNA.

Being a monster doesn't agree with her stomach.

As I sift through the next file on my next victim, looking through the notes of his life, my phone rings. I answer immediately when I see it's Colet.

"You find him?"

"His name is Gerald Plemming, at least according to the news. The manhunt is still coming up short. And by the way...Boogeyman? Really?"

I snort out a laugh.

"I hope they come up with something cleverer for you."

I shudder just thinking about the names they may don me with. Then Mikha will only know me by that name if she ever discovers the truth.

She'll hate the woman she cares for because she'll see the monster lurking within.

"Have you found him, though? I already knew his name," I go on, refusing to go down that road just yet.

"He's in DC."

My heart thumps in my chest.

"You're sure?"

"Dropped a body a few minutes ago," she answers. "He's off grid as far as any paper trails go. However, he made one hell of a statement announcing his current whereabouts. This time, instead of finding the body in an apartment, he hung her out a window for all to see. And instead of it being a low-profile girl, he killed a judge's wife. Raped her brutally, and there was a lot of overkill."

"Normally, overkill means rage," I say quietly, trying to process it all.

"I think the overkill was more of a statement than rage. I think he wanted to make a fuck-you statement to the FBI. You're right about him enjoying the attention. He's going to want more of it, since he's becoming an exhibitionist."